ANCHOR

Chapter 22

SAM

  I struggled underneath the unfamiliar wool fibers that were ticking my skin uncomfortably. It was a chilly night, the night seeping through my open window, so I couldn't get rid of the blanket. The room was dark and it echoed off the walls, settling in my heart. I could hear the crickets through the thin screen that was the boundary between my room, and outside. I missed Hope, even though she was seconds away.

   I was aware of how empty my hands felt, not tangled in hers. My arms ached to be filled with her figure. She made me feel so much better, and without her, everything fell back onto my shoulders. My mind spun with mulitple thoughts at once, each one spreading and threading and weaving, tangling until I couldn't think clearly. 

  Hope was right, I was possibly overreacting and being overprotective towards Derek. It was just something in the back of my mind nagged at me, telling me something wasn't right. It just wasn't fair how I can't name a single good thing that has happened to him by chance. He always got the short end of the stick in life, and he took it with a forced smile and not a word in protest.

  I threw off my blanket and put on a pair of sweats, quietly padding into Derek's room. Walking over to beside his bed, I saw his shape curled under my covers. I pushed his hair from his face, damp from sweat. His lips parted and he released a little puff of air.

   His room was reasonably warmer than mine, so I opened the tiny window at the far side of the room, letting the cool air seep in.

  I sat back down where I had before, the chair remaining next to Hope's. I kept my eyes trained on Derek, feeling my heart twist like his legs in the sheets.

  How could I make his life better? What would make him happy? There were so many things I knew I couldn't change for him, like the kids at his school, or my Dad. I had tried to protect him from my Dad's wrath as long as I could but I could only do that to such a degree. Hope was everything that had pulled me through a life like this. He didn't have a Hope, I knew.

  I couldn't give him one, not in the way I had one. 

  I leaned back in the chair, looking out the window. The moon and the stars were the only thing illuminating the dark sky, they created an eerie milky light that spilled over the wooden floor, a small shadow of light. I heard a coyote howl somewhere off in the distance, and felt chills trail down my spine.

    All someone needed was a Hope in their life, that was one thing I knew. I felt so exhausted earlier, and I did then too. But my anxiety was overbearing, and I was in my car before I knew it, guitar in the back seat.

   I drove away from the house, away from Hope's, winding down various roads that looked different, not lit by the sunlight. The darkness made familiar places unfamiliar, and there was a certain comfort in that.

  I pulled over a couple roads over, where the yellow street light vaguely lit the inside of my vehicle. I pulled my guitar over my lap and felt relief flooding over me as chords sang in the silence. It wasn't the kind of feeling Hope gave me, not the sort of pleasure I found when in her presence. It was just enough for now.

His limbs are long

thin and unable to hold

everything thats been given

His heart is strong

beating for the very sole

purpose of all thats unwritten



Chorus: dark eyes are like drowning in an

ocean of all he doesn't know